


The Seventh Bandit

by StarFusion617



Series: Smosh Summer Games: Wild West AU [1]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Angst, Cowbaes, Damien gives it to him, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt!Shayne, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nice!Damien, Not like Damien isn’t nice normally but for this fic the Bandits are bad so, Pistols, Protective!Damien, Randy Bandits, Shayne needs a hug, Shayne taken hostage, The Randy Bandits are kinda mean, Wild West AU, a little violence, cowboy hats and bandannas, wild west town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 12:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarFusion617/pseuds/StarFusion617
Summary: Shayne is taken hostage by the Randy Bandits and believes his time is up.Little does he know, there’s always someone watching...





	The Seventh Bandit

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I’m not dead! So this is a one shot, written because I was watching Smosh and they’re actually adorable. Anyway, on with the story!

Shayne peered around the abandoned building, gun raised ahead of him. The only sounds were the slow, quiet footsteps of his fellow gang members, and even the dust hung still in the air. This building used to be a restaurant, but the amount of raids by the two main gangs in the town had forced the owners to leave. Afterwards, the place had become one of the most common battlegrounds between the groups.

Shayne belonged to a gang called the Cowbaes, dressing in white accented by blue along with the other six members of the group. Their rivals, the Randy Bandits, wore black accented in red and seemed to have made it their goal to loot and destroy as much of the town as possible. The Cowbaes desperately wanted to stop them.

Shayne turned, his guard falling upon seeing no one in the old restaurant. He lowered the small pistol and signaled to the rest of the gang to fall back. They didn’t have a leader, so the members took orders from nearly everyone else in the group if they agreed.

The Cowbaes filed out the broken front door one by one until only Shayne was left. Just as he turned to go, he heard a noise. Whirling around, gun already raised, he was met with the sight of four Randy Bandits. Similar to his own gang, the Bandits’ faces were hidden by bandannas tied around their mouths and noses, as well as shadowed by the black cowboy hats they wore low on their foreheads. Shayne gritted his teeth behind his own bandanna at the four guns pointed at his chest. He knew he was outnumbered, but he couldn’t give up.

Before even waiting to see what they wanted, Shayne leaped sideways, holstering his gun, and ducked underneath the outstretched arms of the Bandit on the far left. The Bandit, surprised, nearly dropped his gun as Shayne slipped behind him. Before the Cowbae could grab the Bandit in a chokehold, the other Bandits turned on him. One shot a warning close to his temple, and Shayne forced himself not to flinch at the sudden noise. He tried to twist out of the way as the other two lunged for him, but the Bandit in front of him turned and caught him by the arm. Shayne growled as his arms were forced behind him and his gun was taken. He struggled, but three of the Bandits had a hold on him, and it proved to be useless. He huffed in frustration, cursing his own gang’s rule never to turn back alone after leaving a building in case the person got jumped.

As the Bandits dragged him out the back door of the restaurant, he heard his own gang hesitantly call out and reenter the building as a unit to try and find him. He was only sad that they had followed the rule and were too late.

Shayne was taken a ways away from the restaurant to the other side of town, where he discovered the remaining Bandits were waiting for them. Neither of the gangs had stationary hideouts, so they could only guess at where the others would strike next.

The Bandits holding Shayne tied his wrists with thick rope, making sure to pull it tight and leave no room for escape. They also tied his wrists to his waist, and made his own bandanna into a gag. Bound and forced to his knees in front of all seven Randy Bandits, Shayne refused to bow his head no matter how humiliated he felt. Eventually, the Bandits dismissed the obvious show of defiance and formed a half circle in front of him.

“You are a hostage now. The next time we raid, we’ll leave a message for that stupid little group of yours to come find us. We’re demanding a ransom of $3,000, which I’m sure you don’t have,” one of the Bandits intoned, voice devoid of all emotion except the barest hint of smugness. Shayne’s eyes widened involuntarily at the sum. The Bandits were right. The Cowbaes didn’t have the money to buy Shayne’s freedom.

The Bandit on the far right spoke next. “While you are our hostage, you will receive food once a day and water at every meal of ours. Your hands will always be tied, and you will be securely bound to something solid any time you are not traveling with us. So don’t even think about escaping. You may be permitted to lose the gag, but only if you prove you won’t make noise. Any noise. If you are without a gag, you will not be permitted to speak unless directly asked a question. Any offense to that rule will be met with punishment. Understood?”

Shayne refused to nod in agreement to the Bandits’ terms, and one of them finally stepped forward and shoved his head down, threatening quietly in his ear to tie his head in this position to his wrists. Shayne stopped pushing against the Bandit’s hand and waited until he let go to look up. The rest of the Bandits, although Shayne couldn’t see their faces, seemed to grin in triumph. He clenched his teeth and glared daggers at them as he was dragged away.

They put him in the basement of another abandoned building, this one what used to be a store. He was tied, sitting, to a solid wooden post with his back against it and given a piece of bread, thrown on the floor at his feet. He waited until the door leading back upstairs slammed shut before humiliating himself by bending forward like a dog and using his teeth to pick up the loaf. He used his knees to hold it and quickly finished the tiny meal, wishing he had more.

It only took him two hours to exhaust all attempts at escape. He slammed his head against the post behind him, finding it to be solid, wiggled his already chafed wrists in a fruitless attempt to free himself, and found that he couldn’t reach the ropes with his teeth, either. Eventually, he fell asleep out of pure boredom, unaware of the figure watching him from the shadows of a small window above his head.

Shayne woke to the stars shining faintly outside the same window, sunrise fast-approaching. The window was in front of him, and he found that looking out at the tiny, white lights helped chase away the feeling of being trapped. He tried to let them dim the hopelessness too, but he only ended up wishing his gang members were there with him as the stars were.

He was suddenly startled by the sound of a door opening and footsteps on the wooden stairs. He tensed, watching the far wall, where he knew the stairs to end at. Sure enough, a few seconds later, three Bandits appeared out of the shadows. As they drew closer, Shayne could see that they weren’t dressed in full Bandit gear. They still had on the telltale black and red trimmed clothing, but their hats and bandannas were missing, providing Shayne with a full view of their faces.

Shayne found it incredibly disarming to see the famed Bandits without hidden faces because it made them seem more like real people. He had always thought of them as the enemies, the emotionless Bandits who lived only for destruction and suffering, but these were actual people, just like him, strayed to the wrong side for reasons Shayne could only guess at.

The first Bandit, a redhead with a round face and brown eyes, glared at Shayne as he neared. The other two, a tall, pink-haired, green-eyed man and a purple-haired woman with dark brown eyes, stepped up to either side of the first. All three gave mocking stares and grins as they came to a standstill in front of Shayne.

“So, one of the famous Cowbaes, tied up at our mercy. How interesting...” the redhead smiled, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

“How’d you get here? Caught and lassoed like the cow that you are?” the girl teased, grin sharp and predatory. Shayne winced at the jab.

“Well, at least we get to do whatever we want with you while we pretend to wait for the money we already know you can’t pay. It’ll do them good to see a fellow Cowbae a little bruised at our hands, don’t you think?” the third Bandit intoned, voice laced with an unpleasant sort of lilt. Shayne clenched his teeth for what seemed to be the millionth time since his capture and did his best to glare up at them.

He wasn’t surprised when they laughed and stood back. His hair was messy from wearing his now-missing cowboy hat for so long, and he had no doubt his face was dusty and red with anger. As he watched, the redhead stepped closer and aimed a kick at his side.

“This is for every time you’ve ever aimed that pistol of yours at one of my friends,” the Bandit spat, right before the blow connected. Shayne found himself defenseless and incapable of either fighting back or moving away as, for what seemed like hours, the three Bandits beat him as much as they could before the sun rose. He was left to suffer, dusty and covered in a mixture of bruises and his own blood, as the Bandits left before the rest of the gang came down to get him so they could change locations to a different part of town. He never noticed the silhouette hovering just outside the window once again.

Shayne was moved along with the Bandits, and retied once they arrived at an abandoned building on the very outskirts of town. Over the next few days, they changed locations once a day, and Shayne did what he was supposed to. He ate his one meal, drank as much water as they gave him, and didn’t try to use his voice at all—even though it would have been impossible through the gag.

Finally, after the fourth day, the Bandits removed the gag. Shayne decided it would be best to refrain from speaking and follow the Bandits’ terms in order to avoid a worse beating. They had been happening every night, by at least one of the original three joined by two others. Shayne was always in pain now, and he learned to live with it as a constant in his life as a hostage.

The only thing that confused Shayne was that he only ever counted six Bandits. He had had more than enough time to learn each Bandit’s appearance and movements during his nightly beatings, and he now knew six of them. There was never a seventh new face. He wondered where the Bandit was at night and if he knew about what the rest of them got up to while the moon hung in the sky.

Two days later, he found out. After a particularly bad nightly session, which left Shayne spitting out blood through the gag the Bandits had mockingly replaced, a slight movement to his right caught his attention. Bound and gagged as he was, he could do little more than stare at the shadows, but eventually a figure materialized out of the darkness. The Bandit knelt next to him and pulled off his hat and bandanna, revealing the unfamiliar face of the seventh Bandit.

The Bandit had brown hair cut to just cover the top of his forehead, and Shayne found himself slightly intimidated by soft brown eyes staring at him. After meeting the rest of the Bandits, Shayne was a little wary of what this one might do, and he unconsciously leaned away as much as he could. He tried to school his features, but evidently his fear showed in his eyes, as the Bandit’s unreadable expression changed to one of concern.

Wait, concern? Since when was a Bandit, his greatest rivals, _concerned_ for him? Shayne glanced uneasily behind the Bandit, expecting to see his buddies appear from the shadows and join him in beating the Cowbae up again, but nothing moved. Everything was completely silent and still.

Shayne’s attention was brought back to the Bandit when he reached out and carefully pulled the gag from Shayne’s mouth. More blood spilled over his lips, splattering on the floor. Shayne coughed, throat sore from disuse, and spat out the last few droplets. The Bandit reached a hand forward towards Shayne’s face, and the Cowbae flinched back. He eyed the hand warily, fully expecting a hit as he squeezed his eyes shut, but it never came. Instead, Shayne’s eyes opened to the gentle touch of the Bandit’s fingers tracing one of the worst cuts on his face, just above his cheekbone. He had almost forgotten what human contact that wasn’t painful felt like. He watched, eyes wide, as the Bandit pulled his hand back and gave the Cowbae a sad look before circling around to the back of the post.

A moment later, Shayne tried to twist his head around in shock as he felt the ropes around his wrists begin to loosen. He couldn’t see, but he felt them fall as the Bandit appeared back in front of him with a small knife in hand. The Bandit made quick work of sawing through the ropes around Shayne’s waist, and then crouched in front of the Cowbae. Shayne, confused and a little wary, watched him.

“I’ve been watching how my gang treats you. While I don’t think it’s right to steal a human being in a play for money, I definitely don’t think it’s right to beat someone up just because they’re your enemy or your hostage. I didn’t come down earlier because I was planning how to get you out, but now I’ve got the perfect idea. After we get out, I’ll make sure your injuries are taken care of. Follow me,” the Bandit explained.

Shayne gaped for a moment before hesitantly taking the hand held out to him. As he was pulled to his feet, gasping at the pain from his injuries, he heard the Bandit say, “Oh, and my name is Damien. Pleased to meet you.”

Shayne stumbled along behind Damien, struggling to breathe through bruised ribs and a pounding headache. His legs burned, his arms ached, and his wrists were rubbed raw from the ropes. He had told Damien his own name in return, then followed the Bandit out through a small, hidden hole Damien had found in the side of the building. They were now on their way to who knows where, heading along the outer edge of the town, and they had been walking for about half an hour. Granted, they were going ridiculously slow because of Shayne’s condition, but still.

“We’re almost there,” came Damien’s voice, steady and reassuring as the Bandit glanced sideways at the Cowbae. “It’s just up ahead.”

Shayne tried not to trip over his own suddenly-heavy feet and finally made it to the bottom steps of another building, this one not yet abandoned but closed for good as of about a week ago. Shayne remembered the day it shut down.

Staring at the stairs, Shayne bit back a groan and went to take the first step, but Damien quickly caught him by the arm and slipped it around the Bandit’s shoulders. Shayne, grateful for the help and too tired to fight it, allowed Damien to help him up the four steps and into the building. They went into a back room, where Damien led Shayne to a small bed. The building had been a sort of lodging, where travelers and other people could rent out rooms with beds for a night. They had stopped getting enough visitors to sustain it once word of the warring gangs got out.

Shayne collapsed onto the bed, which felt extremely comfortable after the hard, cold wooden floor of the basement he had been tied up in earlier. He saw Damien pull something out of the drawer in the two-drawer cabinet next to the bed, and couldn’t help but smile when he saw his beloved cowboy hat. Damien had already taken the bandanna, and Shayne didn’t really care what he did with it.

As Damien went to give Shayne the hat, the Cowbae’s eyes suddenly widened, and a flashback of the basement played like a slideshow in his mind’s eye.

_“What does the poor cow want now? His stupid little hat?” the redhead Bandit laughed cruelly, one hand extended towards Shayne. In it was a dirty, beige cowboy hat, Shayne’s cowboy hat._

_As Shayne tried desperately to grab his only possession other than his bandanna and gun with his teeth, the Bandit mocked him and pulled the hat just out of his reach. Immediately afterwards, Shayne grunted and spat out blood as a punch connected with his jaw. He fought back tears, wishing he weren’t so weak._

Shayne refocused on the hat in front of him, flinching violently backwards and nearly causing himself to lose his balance and topple off of the bed. Damien frowned and set the hat on top of the bedside cabinet, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. Shayne stared at him, angry at himself for showing so much weakness.

“Shayne, it’s okay. You can tell me later if you want, but I want you to know that I won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t be able to anyway, but I also don’t want to. Why would I hurt a brave, loyal young man such as yourself?” Damien said quietly, laying a gentle hand on Shayne’s forearm.

Surprisingly, the touch felt right, not threatening, and Shayne calmed slightly. Seeing this, Damien crawled forward and sat behind Shayne, pulling the Cowbae to his chest and wrapping one arm lightly around his waist. Shayne, shocked, found the new position comfortable, and Damien’s presence to be oddly soothing. He relaxed even more as Damien started running his fingers through the Cowbae’s hair, causing Shayne to close his eyes and decide to shove his worries aside and trust this new Bandit.

“They had it,” Shayne started, and he heard Damien’s quiet hum of encouragement.

“They had my hat, and they were teasing me. It was right there, but I couldn’t reach it, and they knew it. They enjoyed beating me up that day, more than usual,” Shayne recalled. Damien’s hand in his hair never stopped.

“It’s all over now. I won’t let them hurt you again,” the Bandit said firmly, running a reassuring hand up and down Shayne’s side. The Cowbae let out a breath and let Damien’s gentle touch and comforting presence lull him to sleep. It was the best rest he had gotten since before he was taken hostage.

The two stayed at the same building for three days, waiting until Shayne’s injuries were healed enough to make the trip back to his own gang. Damien also made sure the Cowbae ate three times a day, and soon enough Shayne was as close as he would ever get to how he was before the capture.

There was one obvious change, though. Before, it had just been Shayne and his Cowbaes, forever fighting against the destructive actions of the Randy Bandits. Now, Shayne had someone else to think about: Damien.

While Shayne wouldn’t admit he had feelings for the Bandit who had saved him, he couldn’t deny it to himself either. He often imagined what it would be like if the rival gangs didn’t exist, and it was only him and Damien. The Bandit had been nothing but encouraging with him since their escape, and Shayne was forever grateful for Damien’s quiet understanding and gentle reassurances. Even so, he found himself missing the loyal, familiar members of his own gang.

Today, they were heading to the middle of the town, where Shayne knew the Cowbaes would likely set up camp in order to watch for any Bandit raids that might tell them where Shayne was. The gang had probably already tried to get information from the Bandits, but Shayne doubted they had gotten any.

Damien walked ahead of Shayne, glancing back every once in a while to make sure Shayne was still following. They reached the center of town, surrounded by open stores and restaurants, at about noon. Sitting down to wait in the shade, they watched carefully for any signs of either group.

It only took a few minutes. Two Bandits and two Cowbaes appeared in the dusty clearing, all armed. They faced off for a few seconds as the rest of the gangs followed to stand in two loose lines. The groups, both missing one member, stared at each other for a good five minutes until a Bandit fired a gun straight up into the air.

“Come for more weak attempts for information?” the Bandit growled mockingly. Shayne had asked Damien the names of all the Bandits, and he recognized this one’s voice. It was Lasercorn, the redhead who had come the first night of Shayne’s captivity.

The Cowbaes all glared at him, and finally one spoke. “Tell us where he is.” The voice was Courtney’s, but Shayne knew every Cowbae well enough to identify them even in full headgear without hearing them speak.

“No.” That was Olivia, the only other female in the group besides the one who had accompanied Lasercorn the first night. Courtney visibly tensed, and the Cowbae next to her shifted closer as if to warn her of what might happen if she let her anger control her actions.

“We won’t take no for an answer anymore,” the Cowbae said, infuriatingly calm. That was Wes, a well-liked member and strong, a good asset to the gang. On top of that, like the rest of the Cowbaes, Wes was extremely loyal and unquestioningly had everyone’s back.

The Bandits all took a step forward, but the Cowbaes refused to step down. Angry now, both of the middle members from each group raised their guns towards each other. It was Mari against Wes, eyes glaring from behind their bandannas. As if signaled, the rest of the people in the clearing followed suit. Shayne identified Olivia against Courtney, Lasercorn against Joven, Noah against Keith, Flitz against Sohinki, and Ian against Boze.

Before he knew what he was doing, Shayne had leapt from his hiding spot and ran across the clearing to stand directly in between the gangs, facing his Cowbaes. He dimly sensed Damien following to stand back to back with him, facing the Randy Bandits. All of the members of both groups stepped back in shock, lowering their guns in surprise and because they didn’t want to risk firing at their own members.

“What—Shayne?” Courtney cried incredulously, and Shayne nodded quickly. Behind him, he heard a similar exchange between Lasercorn and Damien.

“Come on, now that you’re back we can attack the Bandits!” Keith exclaimed urgently. Shayne shook his head. As much as he wanted that, he knew that he and Damien would be caught in the crossfire. He couldn’t risk Damien’s life like that.

“No, we will not shoot them. Let me explain first. Not all of the Bandits are bad,” Shayne said instead. He felt Damien’s shoulders tense behind him, and listened.

“The Cowbaes aren’t the bad guys here. You’ve been doing some things no one here should be doing,” Damien explained to the Bandits. Immediate protests started up from both groups: the Cowbaes demanded an explanation while the Bandits refused to admit that what they did was wrong.

“We had a hostage! We would have gotten money! What were you thinking, trying to save him!” Noah shouted, and surprisingly Shayne felt Damien stand taller instead of flinch backwards. Shayne turned his head to watch.

“You were wrong, Noah. We all were. We shouldn’t take other human beings hostage and beat them up. It’s not right!” At his answer, Noah suddenly scowled. The next thing Shayne knew, the Bandit had signaled to the rest of the gang, and Shayne was grabbed by both arms, dragged backwards into the group of Bandits. Someone forced him to kneel, and the Bandits closed ranks to cut him off from his own gang.

Dimly he heard the shrieks of outrage from the Cowbaes, but he knew they wouldn’t dare fire after Shayne had directly told them not to. Damien’s voice sounded, shouting protests, and Shayne watched the Bandits shift as they held their seventh member back. Shayne smiled dimly, pleased at the attempt but resigned to his fate. In the next moment, a Bandit, maybe Ian, punched him in the face. Shayne’s head snapped sideways, and he coughed, spitting out blood. He inwardly sighed, thinking of the last time that had happened.

Damien’s shouts grew louder, and he growled as the Bandits dragged Shayne backwards, away from the Cowbaes. Shayne was positioned on his knees in front of the line of Bandits, with three still holding Damien back off to the side. The Cowbaes had full view, and their eyes widened. Before they could do anything, Mari aimed her pistol at the side of Shayne’s head. He glanced sideways at it, a flicker of fear crossing his face. But more than anything, he was just sad. Sad that he wouldn’t see Damien again, sad that they couldn’t spend more time together, and sad that he would have to leave his loyal Cowbaes behind.

Just as Mari went to pull the trigger, Shayne caught movement in his peripheral. He turned and stared, wide-eyed, as Damien, now free from his fellow Bandits, lunged across to Shayne and tackled Mari to the ground. The other Bandits went to pull him away, but the Cowbaes ran forward and each took one Bandit. Six Bandits fought with six Cowbaes, giving Damien the opening he needed to quickly pull Shayne to his feet. The Bandit’s fingers passed over the new bruise in a single fleeting moment before he pulled Shayne out of the way of the fighting.

By the time everyone broke apart, all were dusty, tired, and bruised, but no one had won. Then, just as the gangs geared up to go at each other again, Damien’s loud voice stopped them.

“I’m quitting the Randy Bandits.”

Every single head turned in his direction, even Shayne’s, and Damien took a calming breath. “That’s right. I’m joining the Cowbaes, and helping to stop you Bandits from destroying the town. Also, there’s no way you’re ever taking anyone hostage ever again,” he declared firmly. Everyone gaped for a minute or so until Damien led Shayne behind the line of Cowbaes. He ripped off his Bandit hat and bandanna and stood defiantly next to Shayne, daring the Bandits to retaliate. His change of sides must have seriously shocked them, though, because they all glared at him before turning and disappearing into the town, probably to regroup and talk through what had just happened.

Damien turned to Shayne and grinned. “We did it. Now we’ll never be apart.” The next thing Shayne knew, Damien’s lips were on his and he couldn’t be happier. Their first kiss was perfect.

It took a good long explanation, from both Damien and Shayne, to help the Cowbaes understand why what had just happened was good. After that, the former Bandit was accepted with open arms, and he was given a new outfit to match the Cowbaes’. Shayne and Damien decided to start a relationship, and the rest of the Cowbaes agreed wholeheartedly. Everything had turned out just fine.

“You look better in black,” Shayne said seriously. Damien only smiled.

“Yeah, but I look best when I’m with you,” he returned, and the two shared their second kiss.


End file.
